I'm the Little Brother
by Carol3059
Summary: This story is taken from two oneshots that I wrote were Dean switches with a younger version of himself from another reality though you don't have to read those to get it. It's set in the other reality where Dean is younger than Sam.
1. Chapter 1

Note: This story came from a set of oneshots that I wrote, but you don't have to read them to get it. It's an AU where Dean's the younger brother. Oh, and the ages of the boys in this? I made Dean young, he's twenty here. I was thinking eighteen but there's some stuff that I want to do that wouldn't have worked out if he was only eighteen in this.

Don't own anything

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Sam wasn't sure what he was doing. He was a little trapped, though, and he had had the notion to find his family, but that was proving easier said than done. He didn't really know what else he could do, though.

The fact that he would never be able to go back to school didn't anger him as much after nearly two months on the road, but he still felt a little sore about it. The way that he had ended up having to break things off with Jess still hurt but it was getting a little better.

He had basically been driving a little aimlessly for a while now. He had gone on a few hunts, but he found he hated hunting alone. Hell, he had hated this life when he wasn't alone.

After everything that had happened, he felt the urge to find his family. That, however, proved to be easier said than done. His dad's phone went strait to voicemail whenever he called, and the old number he had for Dean's phone wasn't in service anymore.

Sam wasn't sure how he felt about this. Something deep inside of him knew that he deserved it. That he didn't deserve to see Dean again. But he still couldn't keep down the urge to find his brother.

Sam figured that John and Dean were looking for the demon, so Sam started looking for it as well. He called some of John's old friends to see if they had heard from either Dean or John, as well.

It was with great reluctance that one of his dad's old contacts admitted that Dean had contacted him for advise on a hunt just the day before. Sam sighed, relieved. Dean was in a small town in Alabama at the moment. Sam just hoped that he could get there before Dean left.

When Sam finally got to town, he was relieved to find that Dean hadn't solved the hunt yet, which meant he hadn't left town. Sam checked around town, deciding that following the hunt was probably the best way to find Dean.

It took a little bit but Sam found out that there seemed to be a spirit residing in the old abandoned house on the outskirts. He parked some ways away from the house, and stopped, beyond relieved when he saw the Impala parked near the woods leading up to the house.

Sam got out his shotgun and walked warily up to the house. He was nearly to the door when he heard a shout coming from inside the house. Panic seized him for a moment and he sprinted the rest of the way to the door and burst through it. He looked around the first room quickly before heading to the next door.

Before Sam could open the door, though, it burst open and Sam brought his shotgun up. He found himself pointing the gun at his younger brothers face. Sam was so shocked that he didn't lower his gun immediately.

Dean had stopped short, and was staring at Sam, shock displayed on his face as well. They both stood there for several moments, rooted in place. Sam's eyes widened further when he saw something behind Sam, though.

"Down!" Sam yelled. Dean didn't question it, he simply dropped down and Sam unloaded the shotgun. The spirit dissipated immediately. Sam cursed a little. The thing had nearly gotten Dean because they had just been standing there.

"Do you know how to get rid of this thing." Dean nodded, standing. He seemed to be over his shock, at least for the moment while they were still in danger.

"I know where his bones are."

"Then why are you here?" Dean scowled at him.

"Probably because their buried under the house." Dean said. "I dug them up but the damn thing forced me out before I could get rid of them." Sam nodded, and for the first time noticed the bruises that marred the side of Dean's face. Sam gestured to Dean with the shotgun. "I'll cover you." Sam said. Dean snorted and gave him a look.

"Whatever." Dean walked back into the room and Sam saw the place where Dean had pulled back the floorboards and Sam caught sight of the bones buried beneath. It looked like Dean had already salted the corpse even.

Sam watched his brother as he picked up a fallen match book and lit one, throwing it on the bones. The spirit appeared before them, and Dean cocked his head to the side and watched as the thing disappeared again for the final time.

Dean glanced over at Sam for a moment before walking quietly past Sam and out the door. Sam followed warily. He had been dreading this and hoping for it for two months now, but he didn't think it would be a happy family reunion.

Sam followed Dean back outside and towards the cars. Dean was quiet, and Sam wasn't sure what to say. When they reached the cars, Dean stopped, staring out at nothing for a moment.

When he turned to Sam and met his eyes, Sam had to stop himself from staggering back. For a split second there was so much pain reflected in Dean's green eyes. To much, Sam thought, for a twenty year old. 

"Why are you here, Sam?" He asked finally, his eyes hardening again, becoming unreadable.

"Looking for you, actually." Sam said. Guilt was threatening to eat his insides away as he watched his brother.

"Oh, yeah? And why, exactly, were you looking for me?" Sam hesitated for a moment, then sighed.

"Look, some things happened, and I wanted to find you." Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Where is dad? Why are you hunting alone?" Dean shrugged.

"Don't know where dad is. He disappeared a couple of weeks ago. Haven't heard from him since."

"He's not-" Sam cut himself off, and frowned.

"He's not dead, if that's what your asking." Dean said calmly. "Just doesn't want to be found." Sam's frown deepened.

"So, wait. He left you alone?" Sam asked, feeling anger rise a little in him. Dean shrugged again.

"Why not, you did." Sam flinched a little at the words, and felt his anger replaced by guilt. Dean walked over to the Impala and opened the door.

"Wait, Dean. We need to talk." Dean looked up at him and Sam could see everything reflected in his brothers gaze again.

"There's nothing to talk about." Dean said, and hopped into the Impala. Sam cursed as Dean started to pull out and went to his car, getting in and turning it on hastily. There was no way he was losing Dean after two months of looking for him.

Note: I know this is a little fast paced, sorry. I meant it to be, though. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean glanced in the review mirror again. He knew Sam was following him. Dean growled low in his throat. Why the hell was Sam following him? Why was he here? Dean didn't like it. He didn't want to be around Sam right now, but if Sam didn't want to give up, then Dean was sure that he wouldn't be losing him. 

Dean parked the Impala in the motel parking lot that he had checked into two nights ago and got out. He went into his room and closed the door. He looked around for a few minutes before sinking down in front of the bed.

Dean looked around the room for a moment, and pulled his knife out of his bag and twirled it idly in his hands, trying to calm down. He figured Sam would be here soon. He wondered if Sam would try to get into the room or just wait for him to come out.

Dean closed his for a moment, trying to get a hold of the swirling emotions that was threatening. He didn't want to be around Sam. When he was alone, he could bury himself deep. Alone, he didn't have to deal with this.

But Sam brought up everything without saying a word. It was everything that had happened since Sam had ditched this life six years ago. It was this life and everything that had happened because of it.

Dean understood it. Why Sam had left. He new Sam hated this life. Sam had told Dean that he could probably even get custody of him when he moved out. Especially on account of the way that John had raised them. John had found out, though, and basically disowned Sam for it. Dean had said no, anyways. He couldn't, for some reason, leave his dad alone. The irony of that was that John did it to him. He really hadn't seen the man in weeks.

What really pissed Dean off, though, was that Sam had stopped returning his calls. That Sam hadn't just went off to college. He had completely cut Dean out of his life. If he was honest, and he guessed he could be at least with himself, it hurt worse than anything that John did.

Dean knew that Sam could get him to say it out loud, too. That was the thing that irritated him the most. Sam was the only one who could do it. Dean did not want to talk about anything.

But what could he do? Sam had practically raised him up until he was fourteen. When he was a kid, he had viewed Sam in the same sort of way that he had always viewed John. He'd looked up to Sam. And Sam had left. Left him there alone with John.

Dean's head snapped up when someone knocked on the motel door. Dean sighed, but didn't get up. He heard Sam yell his name, but didn't answer. Then he heard Sam picking the lock. He sighed again and pushed down everything. He fixed his eyes on the knife and watched it as he twirled it slowly in his hand. He forced his face into impassiveness.

Dean didn't look up when Sam opened the door. Sam was quiet. Dean could see him standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye watching him.

"What do you want from me, Sam?" Dean asked, and then winced at how the question came out. He hadn't meant to sound so tired, even if that's the way he felt.

"Dean, I-" Sam let out a frustrated breath and walked over to Dean. He sat down on the floor in front of Dean and stared at him for a few minutes. "Dean, I'm sorry." The knife stopped in Dean's hand and his eyes snapped up to Sam's. Fury lit in him.

"Don't lie, Sam." He growled. Sam flinched, but Dean didn't care. "Why are you really here?" Dean asked. He set the knife aside and leaned a little towards Sam, his eyes narrowing.

"I came to find you." Sam said, his eyes a little wide at the fury in Dean's.

"Right, I got that. But what I want to know is why? You decide one day to have a family reunion? You just wanted to see me, even though we haven't talked in years? You just got the urge to leave normal and come hunting with me?" Sam looked down a little, not meeting Dean's eyes. Dean leaned back against the bed again and nodded, a wave of bitterness so strong that no one should have went through him.

"I didn't think so." He picked up the knife again. "Tell me what happened. Why your really here." He said quietly. He heard Sam blow out a breath.

"A few months ago, we went to visit a friend."

"We?" Dean asked, still not looking up.

"My girlfriend Jess was with me." Sam actually looked up at Sam when he said that. His eyes narrowed a little, wondering if Sam had the same story as him.

"We went to visit a friend and something happened." Sam said, staring out, not noticing Dean's expression. "Something supernatural." Sam said turning back to Dean. He noticed that Dean was actually looking at him and even looked a little worried. Sam pressed on, not saying anything about that, but hoping he could keep Dean from becoming impassive again.

"What was it?" Dean asked finally. He tried to keep his face impassive, but it was hard with what Sam was saying. He remembered what had happened to him only six months ago. Despite the fact that he was still angry at Sam, he still didn't want him to go through something like that.

"A shape shifter." Sam said, shrugging. "It was killing women. It went after Jess, after it had changed to look like me. I killed it before it could kill her. But it was still in my form, and so if the cops found out that the thing they buried wasn't me..."

"Huh." Dean said, sitting back. A brief feeling of relief went through him at the fact that Sam hadn't gone through what he had, then the anger came back when what Sam said fully sunk in.

"So, you came here. Looking for me because you can't go back to school without being arrested for murder." Dean said calmly.

"Dean, I lost everything-"

"You lost everything?" Dean said quietly, his anger rising once again to fury. "Trust me Sam, there are worse things that could happen than what you just described." To his suprise, Sam actually looked guilty again.

"Dean, I'm-"

"Don't say your sorry again, Sam. You don't mean it."

"Dean, I know that we haven't talked for a long time. But I'm here now. I want to be your brother again." Dean scoffed and got up. He began angrily stuffing his things in his bag. Sam stood as well.

"I'm coming with you. And if you just drive away again, I'm just going to follow." Sam said resolutely. Dean hefted his bag and turned to Sam again, forcing his face into blankness again.

"Your decision, Sam. But we stopped being brothers a long time ago."


	3. Chapter 3

Note: Sorry this took so long. I've been sick for the past week. And, I know Sam is sort of the bad guy so far in this, which is kind of weird for me. I love Sam, I really do. Maybe not as much as Dean, but I do. It's so weird to be writing Sam like this. 

Not for the first time, Dean wished that his dad was here. He was sitting in the Impala at a stop light, waiting for it to change. The radio was turned up all the way and he was trying his best to ignore the person in the passenger seat.

Dean had been questioning his decision to let Sam ride with him. He had been doing his best to just ignore Sam's attempts to talk but it was kind of hard when Sam was right next to him. Sam didn't know, didn't know everything that had happened since he had left for college. In fact the only person who did know everything was his dad, and he was MIA at the moment.

Sam was sort of pissing him off, though, and not just because he was suddenly there. It was sort of his first reaction, to get angry. No matter how much he denied it to Sam, said that he just didn't give a damn, he was angry. No, he was furious at Sam. And really Sam wasn't helping when he gave that derisive sneer every time John's name was mentioned.

Dean knew that Sam had problems with their dad, but Sam was the one who left without a word. Sam was the one who lost contact. And really, Dean knew that his dad wasn't perfect but the man had been there when Sam wasn't.

"So your not even looking for dad?" Dean gritted his teeth, and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Yes, Sam, I am looking for dad. But I'm also hunting and looking for the demon. Dad will call me if he needs to." Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You really believe that?"

"That's it." Dean said. He parked the car on the side of the road abruptly and turned to Sam.

"You want to sit there and badmouth dad when your the one who left then you can get the hell out of my car." Dean said calmly. Sam sighed, but didn't move.

"I just don't get it. I don't get why-" Sam stopped, biting his lip and staring at Dean.

"Why what, Sam?" Dean asked, scowling. "Why I don't hate dad like you do?"

"I don't hate him." Sam said quietly. Dean snorted, and chewed his own lip, considering Sam. He didn't want to talk to Sam, but his urge to defend John had him speaking up now.

"I used to, you know. After you left, I was so angry at him." Dean shook his head and looked out the window. "For months, we ended up just fighting. Then we were on this hunt and I ignored one of dad's orders." Dean shifted in his seat and pulled up his shirt a little to expose long scars on his stomach.

"Almost died." He said quietly. He let his shirt drop and stared out again. "I've never seen dad so scared in my life. He was calm and everything but he was terrified, I could see it in his eyes." Dean turned back and met Sam's gaze. "That was when I got it."

"Got what?"

"Why he was so angry when you left. See, I'd seen that look in his eyes before, when he found out what you were planning. He wasn't angry because you were leaving the hunt. He was scared 'cause you wouldn't be near him so he could protect you." Sam sat, stunned at that. Dean turned back to the road and started the car. He saw the guilt in Sam's eyes and thought that it belonged there.

Dean kept his eyes firmly planted on the road as he drove. He hadn't meant to say all that, but he hadn't been able to help himself. He hadn't really been around anyone for a while, let alone someone who knew him as well as Sam.

Except Sam didn't really know him, did he? Sam hadn't seen him since he was fourteen and he had definitely changed since then. He didn't want to know Sam, though. And, really the only thing that he had said about himself was that he still respected John and didn't Sam.

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand on his forehead. He glanced at Sam. Sam was staring out the window, quiet. Dean sighed again and turned back to the road. Being around Sam was getting to him. Damn, he really needed something to kill.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was learning more and more about his little brother. And the more he learned, the more worried he became. After Dean's outburst about John, he barely talked to Sam at all. In fact, Sam was sure that Dean rarely talked to anyone. 

Sam got the impression that Dean believed that their dad left to protect him some how. Sam wasn't so sure, but what Dean had told him about John had given him some things to think about.

He found himself questioning everything that had happened since his mother had died. Questioning how he had grown up and how many ways he had failed Dean. It wasn't just going off to college. It was everything.

He remembered his childhood clearly, and Dean's. He was beginning to think that he had failed as an older brother from day one. He and John had never really gotten along after Sam had reached a certain age. They had ended up in more than one shouting matches.

True, a lot of these fights had ended up about Dean, but Sam was aware, now that Dean had gotten him thinking about it, that maybe that had screwed Dean up some too. He remembered the first fight that he had gotten into with his dad.

Sam had only been thirteen at the time and John was planning on leaving him to watch Dean while he went out on a hunt. He and John had ended up shouting at each other about it. Dean had walked in mid-fight. His brother had only been nine at the time, and Sam remembered the way he had looked. Standing in the doorway and watching them, his green eyes wide.

It was true that Dean had been more mature by then than any nine year old had the right to be, but he still shouldn't have had to see that. And then he had asked Sam, after John had left, why he and dad hated each other so much?

So, now that he had a clear view of his brother as an adult, Sam was reflecting on all these things, and realizing that it was just as much his fault as John's that Dean was so closed off.

Dean rarely talked to anyone unless he was investigating a case. He was ignoring Sam now all the time. And, he was having nightmares.

It was sort of an accident, Sam was sure, that Dean let that little secret out. Dean refused to share a motel room with Sam, so they weren't sleeping in the same room, at first anyways.

They ended up having to share a motel room, though, when they pulled into a town and the only motel was nearly all booked up. Dean had grudgingly accepted the fact that they would have to share a room at least for that night.

It was that night that Sam noticed how little Dean actually slept. Sam had laid down on the bed, but he found he couldn't sleep, mostly because Dean wasn't. He had waited laying there, hearing Dean tossing a little every once and a while. He got his real shock when Dean finally settled down and fell asleep, though.

At first everything was fine. Sam had turned over to look at his brother before closing his eyes to go to sleep himself. And then he heard it. Sam's eyes snapped open and he frowned, looking over at his brother. Dean was mumbling in his sleep.

Sam got up and stood beside his brothers bed, staring down at him. Dean's forehead was creased in a frown and he was talking incoherently. Sam chewed his lip for a second, wondering if he should wake Dean up.

That decision was made easy when Dean moaned in his sleep and started shaking his head from side to side. His hands fisted in the sheets he was wrapped in. Sam grabbed Dean's shoulders. "Dean, wake up!" He said, giving Dean's shoulders a shake. Dean's eyes snapped open, but they were still glazed, unseeing. Sam tightened his hold and Dean was actually struggling against him. Before Sam could react, Dean's fist came up and connected to Sam's chin.

Sam stumbled back and cursed, but at least Dean's eyes focused and he stared at Sam. He was still breathing a little hard.

"You okay?" Sam asked, going forward again tentatively.

"Fine." Dean said, getting up from the bed abruptly.

"Dean-"

"I'm taking a shower." Dean interrupted. "Sorry." He said, gesturing to Sam as he grabbed his bag and disappeared quickly inside the bathroom.

Sam sat on Dean's bed, rubbing his jaw. Sam looked over at the clock and sighed. It wasn't even morning. He knew that Dean just wanted to get away from him and Dean probably would not be sleeping again tonight.

Sam sighed again and collapsed back on the bed. How the hell could he make this up to Dean? He didn't really know, but he knew he needed to. He knew his brother was hurting and he wanted desperately to know the reason why.

Sam wasn't stupid. What he did wasn't the only reason Dean was hurting. He knew that he would have to figure out a way to show Dean that he could trust him again before Dean would even think about telling Sam what was going on.

Sam stared up at the ceiling. He knew that he had let Dean down more times than he could count. But he promised to himself now that he would never do it again. Sam chewed his lip. He would prove it to Dean, too.


	5. Chapter 5

After that first night, Sam and Dean actually started sharing a motel room from then on. Because of this, Sam was starting to get even more disturbing insight into his brother. The nightmare that Sam had witnessed the first night? Turns out it was actually a pretty mild one. 

Sam had been woken up by a scream from his brother a couple times since then. Sam had learned a few other things, too. Like the fact that he shouldn't touch his brother to wake him up. Sam had found a way to be there for his brother, actually, at least in his sleep.

If Dean woke up mid nightmare, he ended up not sleeping at all afterwards. In fact, Dean rarely slept anyways. Sam had abandoned trying to wake Dean up and settled for trying to sooth his brother while he was still asleep.

It worked, sometimes. Sometimes, Sam could get Dean to settle down, and Sam was gratified that when he succeeded in this that Dean would sleep mostly through the night afterwards.

Other times, it didn't. Those were Dean's worst nightmares. The ones that ended up in a scream.

Dean refused to talk to Sam about them. Sam had settled for soothing Dean when he could and letting Dean know that if he wanted to talk he could. At least he settled for that at the moment.

It was on one of his better nights that Dean told Sam one of his secrets without knowing it. Dean was having one of his milder nightmares. Sam got up immediately and sat down carefully next to Dean.

He did what he had done every night. He murmured things to Dean and ran a soothing hand through his brothers short hair. Dean leaned into the touch unconsciously.

"Don't believe me." Dean mumbled in his sleep. Dean did that sometimes. Most of what he said was either incoherent or something Sam didn't understand, though. "Cassie." Dean breathed the name before he fell silent and settled down.

Sam stood up and stared down at his brother. His heart was racing all of the sudden. The way his brother had said that name. Sam was suddenly terrified of why exactly Dean was having nightmares about this girl.

Obviously, the nightmare he had had this night weren't bad ones, but Sam was thinking about some of the other nights. About the strangled scream that he had heard from his brother, the unshed tears in Dean's eyes.

Sam sat on his bed and held his head in his hands. How much had his brother had to go through? Sam chewed his lip, wondering if he would be enough. Would Dean always be in pain?

Sam did not sleep anymore that night.

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The next morning, Dean actually looked pretty refreshed. He had slept through after that one nightmare. Sam, on the other hand, felt horrible. He had spent the night staring up at the ceiling and listening to his brothers even breathing.

Dean hadn't said anything about it, but Sam was sure he wasn't looking his best. They ended up in some diner and talking about their next case. Some disappearances in the next state over.

Sam didn't ask Dean about the nightmare. He didn't want to push Dean, but he did let him know that he was there. Dean didn't say anything, though, and it was wearing on Sam. He wondered if Dean would ever talk to him.

The disaster that took place on their hunt made Sam wish that he had gotten Dean to talk some of his issues out. He didn't know if it would have helped, but it could have.

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Turned out, not all of the people who disappeared turned up dead. Some just ended up insane. Sam and Dean figured it was some sort of spirit that was doing it. Sam had gotten in to talk to one of the survivors.

Sam hadn't gotten much out of the woman. She was completely insane by then, but Sam had gotten something.

"I think this things manifesting their worst nightmares." Sam told Dean later. "This lady, she was crazy when I talked to her, but I did get something."

"What was that?" Dean asked. He was sitting in one of the chairs, idly twirling his knife, something he did often.

"Well, apparently she was extremely claustrophobic. She claims that she was buried alive, except she was found in a room that was actually pretty big, unbound and everything."

"Huh. So, now all we gotta do is find the bones, then." Sam nodded. Dean stood up, putting on his jacket.

"Well, I guess I'll meet you at the library. Going to get a coffee." Sam nodded and Dean walked out. This town was small enough that they could walk basically anywhere.

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Sam was worried. Dean should have met him by now. Sam chewed his lip, sitting in one of the chairs in the library. He hadn't found what he was looking for, but what was really worrying was the fact that Dean wasn't here.

Sam chewed his lips for a moment before he made a decision. He left a message for Dean with the librarian and went out the door. He checked the motel first. Maybe Dean had forgotten something.

He checked the nearest cafe next, hoping that it was just crowded or something and that was what was holding Dean up. Sam was getting a little panicked when he didn't find Dean there. He raked his hands through his hair, lost.

The thought that this spirit had Dean was something that he didn't want to entertain.

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Dean woke up and groaned. He tried to remember what happened. He had went to get some coffee. Why did his head hurt so much then? For a moment he considered the fact that he might have had one of his waking nightmares, or at least that was what he called them. He had never passed out from one of those, though.

Dean tried to get up. He put his hand down on the ground, but his hand didn't meet dirt or stone, it met something soft. Like flesh. Dean's heart sped up. Was Sam here too?

Dean squinted when a light was suddenly turned on, and he was staring into Sam's dark eyes. Only thing was, Sam's eyes weren't seeing him. Dean's eyes widened and he felt panic bubble up.

He tore his gaze away from Sam's lifeless face only to be met with John's, and then Cassie's. Dean scrambled into the corner, staring wildly around at his family. His breathing picked up until he was hyperventilating.

"No no no no!" He grabbed his head, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't breathe. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes. Finally, he slipped into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: This chapter is a little, um, morbid. There's one particular image that in it that I'm a little worried about. I changed the rating mostly because I don't know for sure how the ratings work on stuff like this. If you guys know, could you tell me what you think? Like did I need to change it?

Dean wasn't sure how long he stayed down there. It's not real. It's the spirit. It's not real. He kept repeating those words over and over again in his head with his eyes squeezed shut, but despite the real rationality of the thought, he was still seeing his family's body's every time he opened his eyes.

He had nightmares like this, of course. Ever since Cassie had died, and to see her like this was horrifying. And then there was Sam and his dad. He didn't think he could take being down here any longer.

He understood why the woman Sam had talked to had gone nuts. But, Dean thought that being buried alive would be a breeze compared to this. This was his worst nightmare come to life.

He had had a nightmare like this before. Just after Cassie died, actually. He had been pretty much alone at the time. John had left and Sam was in college, and he had dreamt they were all dead and he would be alone forever.

And, now, seeing it played out was driving him nuts. He opened his eyes again and wondered how long he would be down here. Maybe he would be with them on the floor, staring up at the ceiling without seeing soon, too.

Dean didn't notice when he started trembling. He had opened his eyes and now he couldn't close them again. They locked on his family and he felt the horrifying well of sorrow drowning him.

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Sam burst through the door and cursed. He had tracked the spirit down but, in his opinion, it had taken way to long. Problem was, the guys body had never been found, but Sam was sure that the bones were somewhere where he kept his victims.

Sam had basically panicked when he realized that Dean was gone, and the spirit more than likely had him. It had taken entirely to long to track down this thing, and he was terrified of what he would find. Terrified of the state his brother would be in.

Sam found the place, a small abandoned house, and went inside. There were only a few rooms, so he found the right one pretty quickly, for which he was grateful.

But when he burst through the door of the room, and saw his brother, he had stopped and stared for several moments.

Dean was backed into one of the corners of the room. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and he was shaking visible and rocking himself back and forth. Sam went over to him and kneeled in front of his brother. Dean didn't seem to see him at first, though. His eyes were open wide and staring at something Sam couldn't see.

"Dean?" Sam reached out hesitantly and gripped Dean's shoulder. Dean didn't even flinch, though. Sam looked around the room. He had to get rid of this spirit. He wondered if Dean could even see him at all. Maybe the illusion that the spirit put up wouldn't allow it.

Sam chewed his lip, thinking and looked down at the floor. The wood was pretty much rotted and Sam was pretty sure the guys body was somewhere here. Maybe buried under? Plus, this was the room that he kept all of his victims.

Sam glanced back at Dean, wondering if it would be better to get Dean the hell out of here now first. But this was an illusion, wasn't it? What if moving Dean wasn't enough to change it? Maybe the only way to was to get rid of the spirit. Sam set about doing what he needed to do to get rid of the thing.

It actually didn't take long to find the bones or dig them up. The floors of the place were pretty rotted out and soon Sam was staring down at the skeleton. Sam salted the bones and poured the gasoline on them. He got out a match and lit it.

He was about to throw it on, when the spirit formed right in front of him. Before Sam could react the things hands were on him and then it disappeared.

For a few moments nothing happened and Sam stood frozen with a still burning match in his hand, and then the hazy form of his brother appeared before him. He was younger, around fourteen, and Sam recoiled when his image came in to sharper focus.

There was blood stains covering his torn clothes and his face was ghastly pale. His normally brilliant green eyes were hazy and faded.

"You weren't there." The hazy form of his baby brother whispered. Sam stood in shock, and didn't notice when the tears formed in his eyes and slid down his face. He opened his mouth to say something, to apologize or anything, but the words were stuck in his throat. What could he say?

Sam came crashing back down to reality when he felt something burning his fingers. He looked down at the still burning match and almost automatically threw it on the bones. His eyes never left the form of his fourteen year old brother while the bones burned.

After what seemed like eternity, the apparition faded and then blinked out of existence. Sam blinked, standing still. Not real. Not real. Not real. He repeated the words over and over again in his head as he fell to his knees and vomited everything he had eaten that day.

A moan brought him back to the present and to the realization that he wasn't the only one in the room. That his brother wasn't dead, but he did need him.

Sam scrambled over to Dean. Dean had stopped rocking, but he was still trembling badly. Sam found himself unable to force back the tears when Dean's liquid green eyes met his.

"Sam?" It was all Dean said before he was clinging to Sam like he might disappear. Sam was shocked for a moment before he forced himself into action. He wrapped his arms around Dean and rubbed soothing circles on his back. Dean gripped the front of Sam's jacket in a tight fist and buried his head in Sam's chest.

"Sam." Dean got out. He breath was hitching and Sam was afraid that he might hyperventilate.

"It's okay, Dean. I got you. It wasn't real, okay? I wont ever let anything bad happen to you again."

"I-I thought you left." Dean mumbled against Sam's chest. His grip on Sam's jacket tightened. "Don't leave." Sam felt his heart shatter a little bit at the broken tone of Dean's voice.

"Don't worry, Dean. I'll never leave again."

Note: Yeah, fourteen year old Dean was mostly what I was worried about. Mostly because it's an image of a child. 


	7. Chapter 7

Note: Okay, so I changed the rating back to T. Some people told me in my last reviews that it wasn't as bad as I thought, so I figured it would be okay. So, I don't usually put songs in my stories but I kind of thought this fit. The song is a pretty old and a short one. 

The song is Am I Going Crazy by Korn.

_Am I going crazy?  
_

_Am I going insane and dazed?  
_

_Am I too lost to face this?  
_

_And what will it cost to escape? _

_Nothing is right.  
_

_I am so scared._

_It was to much for him to handle._ That was his thought as he buried his head in Sam's chest and clutched the front of Sam's jacket. His breath hitched, but he didn't cry. He couldn't.

Images of his family, dead on the floor flashed over and over again in his head, and he still couldn't cry. He wanted to, though. He wanted to scream and yell or even punch Sam or something. Anything that would take all of this away.

He had finally reached his breaking point. He had thought he had reached that awhile ago, but he was wrong. Nothing was compared to this.

He wanted it to go away. He desperately wanted to make it go away. All of it. He felt Sam rubbing his back and heard him murmuring things that he couldn't understand.

No, he wanted Sam to make it go away. He wanted Sam to make it better. Like he used to when they were children. Before Sam and their dad had started getting in shouting matches about him. Before Sam left and dad left and Cassie died.

He felt so old and too young at the same time. He was so freaking tired of it all. It had been one thing after another since he could remember. All he could really do was cling to his big brother.

It's Sam, actually that makes him break down. There's this simple declaration that he's not leaving, that he wont leave again, and Dean finally broke down. Really broke down. Not silent tears, but racking sobs that made him feel like he was going to come apart at the seams.

He wasn't sure how long it went on. When the tears finally stopped, he was aware of Sam talking, but he wasn't really focusing that well. He felt heavy, and numb now that he had broke down.

At some point Sam helped him to his feet and out to the Impala. He was barely aware of the actual trip, though. He pulled his knees up in the passenger seat of the Impala and stared out the window.

He had clung to Sam the whole way out to the car and when he had lost that connection, he had almost broken down again. Then Sam had reached out and touched his shoulder while he was driving and he was able to hold together again.

When they got back to the motel, Dean collapsed into the bed and curled up on his side. Sam, not saying anything, laid down beside him. Dean moved so that he was right next to Sam, so that his forehead brushed up against Sam's side.

He felt heavy, and so tired, but he didn't want to sleep. He always had nightmares, even in the best of days. He knew he was going to have some truly terrible ones tonight.

He was thinking about this when Sam put a hand on his back and started rubbing circles there, trying to comfort him. Despite the fact that Dean felt broken, he hadn't felt comforted since he was a child, before Sam left. Sure, John tried, but the man had been damaged so bad by what had happened to his wife.

Against his will, Dean fell to sleep, hoping that his big brother was enough to keep the nightmares away.

---------------------------------------

Sam watched Dean sleep, a worried frown permanently on his face. Or at least that's the way he felt. Dean had actually broken down tonight and Sam was so worried and scared he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. That he would more than likely be staying up and watching Dean sleep.

It wasn't so much the crying part that scared Sam. Everyone cried, even Dean. Although, he made a good show of being fine, even when Sam could tell he was hurting worse than anyone should.

What worried Sam, really, was the way that Dean had clung to him like he might disappear. The way he went from barely talking to Sam to not letting go of him, even sleeping in the same bed.

Sure, Sam wanted to be closer to his brother, but this wasn't what he had in mind. Dean was broken, and Sam wasn't sure how he could fix it. He still didn't know some of the things that Dean had gone through.

It worried him that Dean might be like this still in the morning. But honestly he was more worried that Dean might pretend that none of this happened, which Sam knew was a big possibility.

He couldn't let Dean do that, though. Not this time. He hadn't been pushing Dean, waiting for Dean to trust him enough to tell him on his own time, and now everything was so screwed up.

As it was, Sam felt a little helpless in the face of Dean's pain. He was the big brother. It was supposed to be his job to protect Dean and to make everything better. He had screwed that up so many times over the years, and he didn't want to screw up again.

He settled down deeper on the bed and kept his hand on Dean's shoulder. He knew Dean would more than likely have nightmares, and he was determined to help him through them. It was the least he could do.

As the night wears on, it's not as bad as Sam would have thought, and he hopes he is helping. Dean fidgeted and mumbled in his sleep every once and a while and Sam wrapped one arm around him and hoped the contact was enough.

Dean did have a few nightmares, Sam was sure, but he stayed were he was, one arm around his younger brother, soothing him back to sleep every time it got bad. Dean needed the sleep and waking him up to go back to sleep to start the cycle all over again seemed rather pointless.

It was sometime close to morning, when Dean had gone over an hour without having a nightmare that Sam finally drifted off.

------------------------------------

Dean woke up slowly. His head was pounding even harder than usual. He laid still for a few moments, keeping his eyes closed. He shifted after a moment. There was something holding him down.

Opening his eyes was a chore and he immediately closed them after opening them. The light in the room was off, but the sunlight streaming in through the window was entirely to bright. He was pretty sure his eyes were swollen, too.

After a minute, he opened his eyes again, slower this time. His nose was buried in something soft and he lifted his head a little and found out what the weight was that was holding him down.

Sam was stretched out on the bed next to him, one arm around his shoulder. Dean frowned down at his brother, trying to remember why they were sleeping in the same bed, because he was pretty sure that wouldn't have happened if he was in his right mind.

Dean sat up abruptly when the night before came back to him in a rush. _No, definitely not in my right mind last night._ Sam's arm fell from his shoulder and Dean scooted away from him, bringing his knees up as images from last night flashed through his mind.

He wasn't going to break down again, but he felt himself start to tremble and he couldn't make himself stop. Sam had woken up when he had sat up and was now bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes, and sat up himself.

"Dean?" Sam said, looking over at him. Dean stared down at the sheets. "Dean, hey. You okay?"

"I'm not going to cry, if that's what you mean." Dean said, a little bitterly. He looked up to meet his brothers eyes. Sam shrugged.

"You could if you wanted to, you know. There's nothing wrong with it." Sam said, concern shining in his eyes.

"I'll be okay." Dean said calmly.

"You really believe that?" Sam's eyes narrowed as he stared at Dean. Dean didn't answer. No, he didn't really believe it, but he had to hope for it, because what else could he do?

"Dean, you need to talk to me. Talk about this. I know it probably sounds like crap but it does help." Dean shook his head and stood up abruptly.

"I gotta take a shower." He said, heading towards the bathroom.

"Dean, no." Sam said, stepping in front of him. Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Get out of my way, Sam." Sam shook his head.

"Look, I let this slide before. I thought that once you trusted me a little more that you would talk to me about all of this. But after last night...you need to deal with this Dean."

"Deal with it?" Dean asked, the question coming out as a growl. "Deal with it?! Let me ask you something Sam. Did you love your girlfriend? Jess, isn't that what you said her name is? Did you love her?"

"Yes." Sam said, frowning at his brother warily. Dean nodded, fury radiating from his eyes.

"Okay. Let's say you loved this girl, only see, there's this demon out there determined to mess with you. To keep you alone. So, you leave one day. Only going to be gone for a week, and when you come back instead of being with her, instead of going out or staying in bed you get to watch her die." Sam stared wide eyed at his brother.

"So, there it is, Sam." Dean said, his voice quiet now. "Do you feel better now? Because I sure as hell don't"

When Dena pushed by Sam, he didn't stop him. Dean slammed the door to the bathroom and locked it. He gripped the edge of the sink and felt tears rise up again. He hadn't meant to tell Sam all of that, but what had happened with that spirit had broken down all of his defenses. He didn't think he could build them up again.

Dean pulled off his clothes and turned on the shower. He kept the water nearly freezing, hoping for a distraction from the raging, horrifying pain in his chest. He stepped inside and let the cold water mix with the tears running down his face.

Note: Holy crap, this chapter was so freaking depressing. I plan on fixing Dean, but it's just taking awhile.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam sat on the bed, feeling thoroughly depressed. He watched the bathroom door and heard the shower running. After Dean's admission, he didn't know what to do. What could he say to something like that? How could he possibly make that better? 

He had known that Dean had been through some bad things, but he hadn't thought it was something like that. He remembered how scared he had been when the shape shifter had captured Jess. He couldn't imagine what it would have felt like if she hadn't made it. It had hurt to leave her, but that hurt wouldn't have even come close to the pain he would have felt if she died.

So, it came down to the fact that he couldn't imagine what Dean was going through and he didn't know how he could make it better, didn't know if he even could.

He could be there for Dean, though. He just hoped that he could make it a little better by being here. He hoped that he had helped some already. The only thing he really could do was be here and lend an ear if Dean wanted to. He would continue helping the best he could with the nightmares, too.

Sam was brought out of his thoughts when Dean walked out of the bathroom, hair still damp and fully clothed. He didn't look at Sam as he went over to his bed to retrieve his bag.

"Dean-"

"I don't want to talk, Sam." He said. No anger, he just sounded incredibly tired.

"Okay." Sam said quietly. "But when you do, I'll be here." Dean looked at him then, and Sam's breath stilled. Pain flashed in Dean's eyes, which were bloodshot, probably from crying.

"You weren't there." Dean said, even more quiet. Sam closed his own eyes for a second, feeling the guilt well up before opening them to meet Dean's gaze again.

"I know, but I'm here now." Dean stared at Sam, and there was so much desperation and pain in his eyes that Sam felt tears burning in the back of his.

"I'm afraid." Dean finally said, so quiet that Sam barely heard him. Sam held back a gasp. He hadn't expected Dean to talk, but his younger brother had reached his breaking point and couldn't seem to build up his walls again.

"Afraid of what?" Sam asked. Dean turned his gaze away, staring down at his bag, still gripped in his hands.

"That it wont be enough." Dean said, echoing Sam's own fears.

"I know." Sam said. "But I'm gonna try and make it be enough." Dean stared at him again, and nodded slowly. Sam smiled a small smile at him. Dean was starting to trust him again.

------------------------

They ate breakfast at a small diner nearby. Well, Sam ate, Dean pushed his food around on his plate. Dean seemed so tired and worn down. He seemed to have lost the will to even pretend that everything was okay.

Dean barely talked, giving one word answers to Sam whenever he asked a question. One thing that was looking up, though, was the fact that he seemed to be trusting Sam more. It was a little scary, actually. Dean was trusting him to make this better, to help him, and Sam wasn't sure if he could. He was going to try, though.

They got back to the motel to pack there things and head out. Dean was putting his things away when his quiet voice rang out, startling Sam.

"I loved her." Dean said. Sam stared at his brother. He hadn't been expecting this so soon. He didn't say anything, afraid that Dean wouldn't continue if he did.

"She was so beautiful. She was actually two years older than me, and nearly as tall, too." A small smile played on Dean's lips as he stared off into space, his bag forgotten. His smile faded after a moment though.

"We weren't even together that long, but I knew I loved her."

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam said. Dean sort of snapped back to himself. He blinked a few times, fighting back tears.

"We better go." He said roughly, picking up his bag and walking towards the door.

"Yeah." Sam said, following behind his brother.

For the next week, as they continued hunting, Dean actually opened up a little bit more to Sam. Sam learned a few more things about Cassie, and he wished he could have met her. She sounded like a great woman and Dean really loved her.

Dean told him about some of the hunts he had been on after Sam had left for college. Sam hadn't wanted to talk about college, thinking it would make Dean close off again, but Dean had said pointedly one day that he was telling Sam things and Sam was keeping his mouth shut, so Sam told him anything he wanted to know.

He told Dean stories about Jess and his friends from school, and instead of closing off like Sam had been afraid of, Dean actually seemed to trust Sam even more. Sam guessed it was because he was talking to Dean about things that were a little bit hard for him because he would never see any of those people again.

Sam was beginning to feel like he and Dean would really be okay, but Dean was still holding something back. Sam could tell that Dean was keeping one more secret from him, and that it was a big one.

Sam didn't push Dean on that one, though. Dean was talking to him again, beginning to trust him. He didn't want to ruin that by being to pushy. He just hoped that Dean would tell him some day soon.

There was only one subject that Dean and Sam didn't touch on, and that was John. Sam suspected it was because Dean knew well how Sam felt about John.

Dean wasn't okay yet, not by a long shot, and Sam knew it was hard for him to open up and trust Sam again, but Sam hoped that he would get there. He had been hoping that Dean would trust him enough one day to tell him the huge secret he was keeping.

Turned out, Dean didn't have to tell him in the end. Sam saw it, and it scared the hell out of him.

They had been in some motel in Arkansas, just off a hunt when it happened. Dean was just sitting on his bed, cleaning his shotgun while Sam checked on his computer for their next hunt.

Sam's head snapped up when Dean groaned suddenly and dropped the gun on the floor. His hands went up to his head and he sank off the bed onto the floor.

"Dean?" Sam said, alarmed. He went over to him, gripping his shoulders, fear spiking in his gut. Dean groaned again, and one of his hands came away from his head to grip the front of Sam's shirt.

"Dean, come on, man. What's wrong?" Dean didn't answer, but he was obviously in pain. Sam was wondering what he should do when Dean's eyes snapped open again and focused on Sam.

"Someone's in trouble."


	9. Chapter 9

Note: Okay, so this is my last chapter. I actually thought this was going to turn out longer with the demon and everything, but this fic turned out to be just a Sam/Dean bonding fic. Hope you guys like this. This chapter is really short, and kind of mushy. 

They had gotten there to late. Dean and Sam hadn't talked much on the way there, Dean was to nervous. When they had finally gotten there and found out they were to late to stop his vision, his stomach had dropped and he had fallen even more quiet.

He stared at the smoking ruins of the house. He had known the demon was going to be there and he was still to late. Sam was quiet as they went and got another motel room in town.

Dean knew Sam was freaked a little bit about all of this, but Dean couldn't really think about anything but the fact that they hadn't got there in time. That another mother had died tonight. What the hell was the use of these visions if they didn't give him enough warning to stop them?

He walked into the motel room and stared around. He felt a little trapped at the moment. He knew Sam would probably want to talk about this whole vision thing. Dean had only blurted out that he had them sometimes and that they always come true before. Dean didn't think he could talk about it right now, though.

"Dean." Sam said, closing the motel room quietly. He was watching Dean warily, now. Dean looked over at him. Great, now Sam probably thought he was a freak. Which, okay, he kind of was.

"Please, Sam." Dean said, sitting down tiredly on the edge of one of the beds. "I don't want to get into a big discussion on this. I don't know why I get them, just that I do." Sam sat down on the bed next to him.

"It's going to be okay, you know." He said quietly. Dean let out a short humorless laugh. He appreciated what Sam was trying to do and that he wasn't grilling him on his visions, but he didn't know if he believed the words. Still, he had liked having Sam around lately.

"What's the point?" Dean asked. "What's the point of this if they don't change anything?"

"We can't save everyone, Dean. This wasn't your fault." Dean looked down at his hands for a moment. Sam put a hand on his shoulder. Dean blinked back tears. He closed his eyes to keep them back.

He couldn't say it, but he was glad Sam was there. It was hard, trusting Sam again after everything that had happened, after Sam had left the way he had. But he did, anyways. And the fact that Sam wasn't questioning him now about this was only reinforcing that.

There was also the fact that he had actually slept through most of the nights since he had started traveling with Sam again. He knew Sam was giving up sleep to help him.

Sam didn't push him, he was just there. There when Dean needed him and ever since he had faced the spirit that had made his worst fears real, he had begun to realize that maybe Sam would be there, that he wouldn't leave this time.

Dean laid back on the bed and without asking Sam laid down next to him. Dean let a small smile out at that. He knew that he would have nightmares tonight, he always did, especially after that vision, but he also knew that Sam would be there.

"Hey, Sam." Dean said as he started to drift off.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"I think it's going to be enough." He said. He caught the beginnings of a smile coming to Sam's face as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Yeah, it still hurt, everything did, but he thought, maybe, with his big brother there, he might be okay someday.


End file.
